


it does not do to dwwell on dreams

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.' Dumbledore said that himself, you goof!"<br/>"Wwell it doesn't really apply to us, noww does it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	it does not do to dwwell on dreams

You find time after the end of the world to update your site.

It's about wizards, of course, and it's got an impressively high hit counter, and absolutely lovely forum debates. After various messages to Callie (although you didn't know her name at the time) and Dirk, you had managed to set up a site along the same lines. It was actually kind of fun to compare notes with all of those kids about the wizardly stories, and you were always careful to stay out of speculation and theory-making sections. No need to give anything away.

But it's kind of nice to sit down and write about the latest book in your mom's series with kids who are just picking it up today. Their excitement in the days leading up to new book releases is always contagious, and you find yourself grateful for spellcheck. Jane, Jake, and Dirk never seem to mind the typos, but internet denizens can be cruel.

 

The activity's died out now, even though things _should_ still be going strong in the timeline that Jane and Jake left behind. At first it upset you a little, but the worlds you'd all found were too exciting to keep your spirit down for long. So your wizardly site went neglected for a while, until the cheerful facade you'd all put over your problems and issues started to crumble.

So all the little updates and posts went unnoticed for a while.

 

* * *

 

You found time in the dreambubbles to post some of your thoughts on that site you'd found.

It's about wizards, of course, and the webmaster (that WAS the right word, right?) is obviously very dedicated to their work. The mods were definitely well chosen, and even if some of the stories they talk about don't have PROPER troll analogs, a lot of them are close enough that you can fake it. That and the fact that humans tended to put EVERYTHING online helped you pass off your posts pretty well. It's not really high caliber interaction, of course.

But it's kind of nice to talk to people about something you thought you didn't care about anymore. Even if they're not fit to clean your cape, sometimes you feel like you can relate to them. It's stupid that you have to remember to type without your quirk (and it just feels WRONG to be honest), but you find yourself willing to put up with it more and more.

 

The activity's died down these days, but you're determined not to let the site die out. By this time, you had painstakingly replied to every open post, even the stupid ones. You've had to space yourself out, to avoid being labeled a spammer, but each comment is well thought out. The theory section has been completely _dominated_ by all of your exceedingly well-mapped hypotheses.

Maybe someday someone'll finally reply.

 

* * *

 

At first you put it down to wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey...stuff. Someone from before the end of the world sending messages into another part of the universe? It sounds crazy, even without all the curlicues and embellishments of SBURB and the Batterwitch and the Medium. Actually...it almost seems more sane than all of that. It was practically talking to ghosts, which was what you did with Fefeta all the time!

Once that had been logic'd out, you found yourself taking the time to write back to this caligulasAquarium guy who's practically been spamming your site. He actually has some interesting posts, but part of you feels like he replied to literally _everything_ just because he could. And you start wondering if maybe he's stuck in a place like you, somewhere beyond the end of the world...

 

But nah. That couldn't be possible. Your session was supposed to be the only live one, by this point, and there was no _way_ that this guy could be related to any of your friends. And according to Callie, trolls always had quirks. So wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff it was. Sure, you could explain it out if you had enough time, but you had no inclination to go hunting through any books for a logical reason and explanation. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?

 

* * *

 

At first you don't question it. The fact that someone's actually replying, _finally_ replying, is answer enough.  tipsyGnostalgic is more than a match for you, countering your theories with ideas of her own. Her dissent doesn't trouble you as much as it might have, once upon a time. Instead you adapt, argue back. Sometimes the two of you build upon things together, and you find yourself smiling at your dream of a husktop.

But you find yourself questioning, soon enough. How are her words reaching you? How had they survived the collapse of two empires, troll and human? How were they able to make it to the furthest reaches of reality, to the dream bubbles? It dawns on you that she might be dead too, and you spend an exhilarated few days alternating between replying to her messages, and searching every dream bubble you have access to.

 

But you crash when you realize that she's just not other there. It takes you a while to get over the disappointment, but a new idea hits you. Her tag kind of reminds you of a Trollian handle, and you spend about half an hour staring at the screen before you finally add her to your list. And her name pops up first thing which leads to you staring at your computer for another half hour. This is happening. This is actually happening. Shit, how do you start?

* * *

\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling tipsyGnostalgic [TG] --

CA: your theory that elphias doge harbored some lingerin affection for dumbledore is frankly ludicrous  
TG: i knew u had a pesterchum  
TG: also u r totes wrong on that one it is all of the obvious in deathly hallows chapter 8  
CA: youre readin betwween lines that dont exist TG  
CA: its OBVVIOUS that he merely looked up to dumbledore as a master a his craft  
TG: there is no evidence he ever married or dated btws  
TG: what do you say 2 that mr doubting pants  
CA: as if that lends any credence to your preposterous statements

* * *

If you could put a name to this feeling, you wouldn't bother to try. The best description of it seems to be something like music, really. Sad and sweet and—hopeful, true, but there's a kind of determined certainty to it as well. It's almost like the feeling of a sunset; goodbye, with the promise of hello.

And somewhere you can hear the whistle of a far off train, leading you back again.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as part of the Askblog Stories Project, as a gift for Dojo and Kia, who run http://askeriroxy.tumblr.com/
> 
> Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYIh-OmRGmU ((Leaving Hogwarts - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Soundtrack))


End file.
